


Must be the Moon

by EveJobs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Ford being a repressed hormonal shithead, Forgive Me, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Some consent issues, Teen Stans, and frotting, and more cum, now with more smut!, seriously there's cum everywhere, some imaginary non-con/dub-con, this is just filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:26:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveJobs/pseuds/EveJobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, it was all Stanley’s fault, at least that’s how Ford compartmentalized it as he pulled himself out of his pajama pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just filth. Terrible, terrible filth.
> 
> Inspired by [this lovely piece of art](http://worlds-nerdiest-old-man.tumblr.com/post/127835469249/oyajiz-lmao). (EDIT: updated link, should work again now)

Ford was lying awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling and concentrating on the breathing sounds of his brother. Stanley usually fell asleep the moment he hit the mattress, but Ford needed to make sure. He could not risk his twin waking up for what he was about to do.

It had been a hot day at the beach, and the images of his shirtless brother were still vivid in Ford’s mind, the way his skin had glistened in the light of the setting sun after a long day of working on the Stan-o-War, the little beads of sweat travelling down his chest, down to his abdomen, that Ford had stared at whenever he was sure that Stan was too preoccupied with his handiwork to notice.

Ford glimpsed over to Stanley’s side of the room. His brother was sprawled out on his back, one arm hanging lazily off the side of his bed, one tucked behind his head, snoring quietly and peacefully. The flimsy bedspread he was under had been pushed down to the point where it barely even covered his stomach, his bare chest emphasized by the soft moonlight shining through the open window next to him.

Ford quietly cursed to himself. If only Stan would put on a damn shirt every once in a while, then he wouldn’t be in this situation. Well, at least not as often. Ford had long since accepted his inappropriate obsession with his twin as just another aspect of his fucked up existence, cementing his status as a complete freak of nature. And he was handling it. Usually by jerking off in the shower a lot.

But not today, oh no, that would not do after a day such as this. Ford gingerly got up and walked over to the other bed, where Stan was already sleeping like a brick. Ford knew that his brother was a heavy sleeper, but he still felt a bout of nervousness rise in his chest. This was going to be risky.

Maybe he shouldn’t. He could still back out now. Just go to the bathroom and do the deed there, no harm done. But then Stanley made just the tiniest of sleeping noises, a little soft moan that went straight to Ford’s dick. Fuck it. He needed this, needed to be here, to see his brother’s face. Just this once.

In the end, it was all Stanley’s fault, at least that’s how Ford compartmentalized it as he pulled himself out of his pajama pants, Stanley and his stupid charm, his incessant flirting that he was apparently completely unaware of, messing with Ford’s head. A light, cool breeze came in through the window, prickling over Ford’s now exposed skin and oh no, Stan’s body was reacting to it as well, his rosy nipples turning into little nubs, and Ford bit back a moan as he squeezed his dick hard.

As he stroked himself, Ford imagined what it would be like to touch Stan, to straddle him on the bed and let his hands roam over that broad, muscular chest, to bend down and suck those hard nipples into his mouth, teasing them with his tongue. Stan would moan quietly in his sleep, probably dreaming about some girl he liked at school, as Ford nipped at his neck and ground his hips against his crotch.

Ford’s breathing became labored as he continued to work his shaft, pumping frantically and huffing out tiny breaths of air. He quickly rubbed his palm over the head of his dick, collecting the bit of pre-come that had already built up there to wet his hand. Ford swore under his breath at the increased slickness, thrusting into his hand with fervor, and then Stan rolled over in his bed, facing Ford and throwing his leg up over the blanket, giving Ford a fantastic view of his thighs.

And Ford just _lost it_ , realizing how close his brother’s face was to his cock now, how he was just _lying there_ with his _mouth open_ and how _easy_ it would be to just grab the back of his head and thrust himself into that mouth, and _shit shit shit,_ he really shouldn’t be thinking about this, shouldn’t imagine face fucking his brother awake, how he would choke around him, how his protests would be silenced by Ford’s cock in his throat, fisting into his hair and pulling him _closer,_ straining his gag reflex and goddamnit he would enjoy it too, wouldn’t he, his little slut of a brother, always giving him those teasing looks; he would go down to his knees and suck him off like the whore he was; and Ford cursed as he came violently, unable to stop himself, his come squirting right onto Stan’s face.

Shit.

“S-Stanley…” Ford whispered quietly, desperately, but Stan just kept snoring, still blissfully and obliviously asleep, and Ford wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or crushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, there you have it. I'm trash. If anyone likes this, I might write a second chapter.
> 
> Oh yeah I forgot to add, the title is a reference to [this song by !!! (Chk Chk Chk)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejQwk1IC4_A). Not really a Stancest song, but I thought of it for some reason.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan's pleasant walk on the beach is interrupted by a surprising development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dreaded sequel!

Stanley was alone at the beach. Which was weird, because Ford should be there with him. They always went to the beach together. He looked around, but there were no signs of his brother. It was just about nighttime, the last broken rays of sunlight bathing the shore in a purple hue. It could’ve almost made for a magical sight, if it hadn’t been for all the broken bottles and other unidentifiable washed up crap lying around.

A cool breeze started to pick up and Stanley shivered. There was something in the air, like a faint whisper, and he suddenly got the distinct feeling of being watched. Something wasn’t right about this situation. And wait, was someone cursing at him? Stanley whirled around quickly, trying to catch his stalker by surprise, only to find that the person behind him was… not a person. It was a dog. Huh. Could dogs swear? Well, it didn’t really matter.

Stanley smiled as the little guy wagged his tail at him. This wasn’t the first stray dog he’d seen around these parts, and he’d always had kind of a soft spot for them. He wished Ford was here so they could try to teach him some tricks together. Ford had always been better at that stuff. Where was Ford?

The dog seemed very excited to have come across another living being, panting and yelping frantically and Stanley couldn’t help but feel a little… weirded out? Some of those noises were kind of unusual for a dog. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint his new buddy so he squatted down and reached out one of his hands to pet him on the head, but before he made contact, the stray started charging towards Stan, jumping up against him and licking him straight across the face.

Stanley staggered backwards at the impact but caught himself quickly. At the same time, he could hear someone whisper his name right next to him. Wait, what? No, it was nothing. A dog was assaulting his face. He could feel a strangely textured tongue trace across his cheek, almost like paper. “Easy there!” he called out at the creature, trying to swat it away with his hands, but instead he was grabbing onto… another set of hands? Did dogs have hands now? Six-fingered hands? Oh.

Stan’s eyes opened with a start to the sight of a completely terrified Ford kneeling on the floor next to him. Their hands were tangled together between them, and Stan could see that his brother was holding a piece of crumpled-up tissue. Nothing about this made any sense. Maybe he was still dreaming? Sometimes Stan would have these dreams where he woke up, except then it turned out that he didn’t actually wake up.

“Bro, what the hell is going on?” Stan asked hoarsely. He did not feel well rested at all. And it still seemed to be the middle of the night. Suddenly aware that he was still holding onto Ford’s hands, he quickly dropped them and moved to rub the sleep from his eyes. That’s when he realized there was something on his face. Something… sticky.

“Eww, what the… Ford, what is this?” Stan inspected the fluid that was now clinging to his fingertips. However, just as he started putting two and two together, his thoughts were interrupted by a forceful kiss being planted on his lips. Ford had lunged himself forwards, eyes closed, crushing their mouths together in an almost painfully uncoordinated motion.

Stanley froze, completely unable to process the situation in his drowsy state. This was pretty much the last thing he’d ever expected to happen. Sure, if he was being completely honest, he did have a few dreams like this before, but Stan never saw a point in dwelling on those kinds of fantasies for too long. Nothing could come of it, right? Ford was his sibling, and siblings don’t make out.

Well, apparently Ford didn’t see it that way. While Stan was still figuring out how to react, his brother was trying desperately to deepen the kiss, placing one hand at the back of his neck and pressing their faces together, the sticky substance on Stan’s face gelling between them, filling the silent night air with obscene, wet little noises.

And that’s when it clicked.

Stanley reeled backwards, simultaneously pushing Ford off with both of his hands.

“Whoa, wait! Did you… did you _come on my face_?” Stanley felt ridiculous even saying the words, but then again, this whole situation was pretty ridiculous.

The blunt question seemed to snap Ford out of whatever temporary insanity had possessed him. He gazed back at Stanley with wide, shock-filled eyes. “Oh my gosh, Stanley, I…I’m _so sorry,_ I don’t know what I was thinking, I…” he looked down at his hands, completely mortified. “Please don’t hate me.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Ford looked like he was about ready to be swallowed up into the earth. His shoulders were slumped like he was trying to make himself as small as possible, and he was fidgeting with his hands, picking at the skin on his extra finger, a nervous habit he’d developed since he started getting bullied as a kid. Stanley couldn’t bear to see him like that, to be the cause of that. His inhibitions quickly melting away, he reached out to take his brother’s face into his hands and tilted it up to make their eyes meet.

“No, of course I won’t. I could never hate you, Ford. You know that, right?”

Ford visibly relaxed at the words, stilling his hands and looking back at him shyly. Stanley cracked a nervous smile. “I mean, okay, this is… a little weird…” He retrieved his hands, suddenly conscious of how they were sticking to Ford’s face. Man, this was a mess.

Ford seemed to notice it too, flushing with embarrassment, and… _damn._ Stanley knew he shouldn’t be thinking this, but Ford looked… _good_ like this, all nervousness and rosy cheeks stained with- with _cum,_ and Stanley felt something stir inside him that had been buried deeply, because damn it all but he could practically _feel_ the air between them brimming with opportunity; it was tugging at him, ready to be seized, urging him to just lean in and-

Ford cleared his throat. “Yes, sorry about that. We should probably get cleaned up,” he said, obviously trying for a casual tone and failing. Stan furrowed his brow, suddenly annoyed. He could feel the moment slipping out of his fingers and found himself unable to let go.

His lips were on Ford’s in an instant, pulling him in by the shoulders, practically hoisting him onto the bed in one swift motion. Ford was startled for a moment but then complied eagerly; melting into the kiss and quickly finding his place on top of Stan, straddling him and pushing him back down into the mattress. Stan’s lips parted as Ford’s tongue brushed against them, allowing him entrance.

Their tongues slid against each other, igniting a spark that traveled through Stan’s entire body, making his skin prickle and ache for contact. Stan moaned into Ford’s mouth and ran his hands down his back, trying to pull him closer. Ford groaned in response and rolled his hips into Stan’s, grinding against his already half-hard cock, and Stan’s vision flashed white as a wave of pleasure hit him.

Ford moved to nuzzle on Stan’s neck, giving him the opportunity to catch a breath of air he badly needed to drive the fuzziness from his brain. The combination of teenage hormones and sleep deprivation was doing wonders to drown out the little voice in the back of his head that kept yelling at him just how very _wrong_ this was, _he’s your brother, Stan, kissing was one thing but this is going too far,_ and yes that was definitely Ford’s hand that was now pushing past the waistband of his shorts.

Six fingers wrapped around him delicately, almost hesitantly and Stan had to summon all of his willpower to stay still, to not buck his hips as Ford squeezed gently, murmuring Stanley’s name into his shoulder.

“F-Ford…” he replied, “This is…” _too much? Too fast?_ Before he could decide what to say, Ford’s mouth was on his again, silencing his protest.

The kiss was rougher this time, almost animalistic. As Ford’s eyes met his own for a brief moment, Stanley could see something in them that he’d never seen before – something base and desperate. A shiver went down his spine.

Stanley turned his head to the side to break the kiss, biting back a moan as Ford’s hand continued to work up and down his hardening length. Ford took the opportunity to attack his neck again, slowly sucking and biting his way upwards. Some of those bites would definitely turn into marks by the next morning, and it wasn’t exactly turtleneck season.

“Stanley… I need you…” Ford whined into his ear. Stanley gulped, wondering about the implication behind those words. He could feel Ford’s erection pressing hard against his thigh. Stanley drew a breath and held it, tensing up. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? _I shouldn’t have kissed him,_ Stan thought, _it was a mistake. All of this is just a huge mistake._

The panicked thoughts were quickly pushed from his head when Ford pulled away and took off his shirt, throwing it carelessly to the side of the bed. As Ford proceeded to push down his pants – not completely, seeing as he was still straddling Stan’s lap, but far enough to free his straining erection – Stanley couldn’t help but stare. Of course he’d seen Ford’s dick before, but never like this, all hard and thick and leaking with precum. Stan licked his lips subconsciously. Ford caught his look and blushed. He gave himself a few tentative strokes while keeping their eyes locked, his expression a strange mixture between bashful and hungry.

Time seemed to stop for a moment then, with both of them stuck gazing at each other, neither of them sure how to take the next step. Stanley stared, spellbound, at his brother’s body, bathed in the blue moon light, his chest expanding and contracting with each desperate breath, as he continued jerking himself off slowly. It was unbearable to watch.

Before he even gave them the conscious command, Stan’s hands started roaming over Ford’s heaving chest on their own accord, exploring every inch of it. His mouth quickly followed suit, and Ford let out a broken whimper as Stan sucked one of his nipples into his mouth.

“Ahhh… Stanley… do you- do you want me to…?”

Stan wasn’t sure what exactly his brother was asking of him, until Ford’s knuckle brushed against his dick accidentally. Sitting upright had brought their erections so close together, they were almost touching. Ford’s hand was hovering around them like an open question.

“OH!” Stan’s eyes went wide. “Y-Yeah!” He nodded, frantically, and then blushed as he realized how eager and desperate he probably sounded. Ford didn’t seem to mind it though, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree as he moved in for another kiss.

Stan kissed Ford back, his eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. Ford gently sucked at Stan’s lower lip. His left hand was in Stan’s hair again, pulling him closer into the kiss, while his right hand finally closed around both of their cocks at once.

“Like that?” Ford breathed the question into Stan’s mouth as he started jerking them both off slowly.

“Haaaahh…” Stan was having trouble remembering how to use language. “Y-Yes,” he finally managed, “just, aaahh, just do it f-faster…”

Ford was eager to comply, picking up the pace considerably. Stan moaned loudly, forgetting about his surroundings, the danger of getting caught. He was coming close already. All he could do was hold on to Ford’s shoulders to keep himself from collapsing onto the bed, to keep their bodies close together. Their foreheads bumped against each other and Stan swore under his breath. Ford didn’t even seem to notice, completely lost in the moment. His eyes were blown, sweat pearling on his forehead, huffing out ragged breaths.

“Stanley…” Ford panted, his voice breaking, and that was all it took to set Stan off, an unearthly sound leaving his throat as he came all over Ford’s hand. Ford followed him moments later, still milking Stan’s dick for all its worth, using his cum as extra lube. His head dropped down to Stanley’s shoulder as he rode out his orgasm, his muffled groan reverberating through Stan’s body.

Finally, they collapsed on top of each other, completely spent.

Stan’s hand landed in Ford’s hair. He didn’t even care about messing it up. Everything was sticky, their hands, faces, stomachs, the bedsheets… it didn’t matter. Ford smiled into the side of his neck, nuzzling softly.

They could clean themselves up tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun writing that dream sequence and it kind of got away from me. Actually, the whole fic turned out way differently than I originally planned it. Welp.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
